


Birth of Fire

by Renookie



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Gen, I deleted this fic a while ago because I was scared and now it's back, Role Swap AU, amber cats, color changing cats are real and it's weirder than it sounds, medicine cat smudge, ravenpaw doesn't exist sorry, ruin-it, scourge has been replaced, smudge joins the clans, tigerclaw is mean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renookie/pseuds/Renookie
Summary: Two born with fur of fire,One made of fear; the other of ire,Shall save the clans or let them expire.
Relationships: Firestar & Graystripe (Warriors), Firestar & Smudge (Warriors)
Kudos: 7





	1. dreams of the wild

The forest extended for millions of pawsteps and faded into a fuzzy horizon that twinkled with bright, tiny stars. Rusty took a cautious step, feeling the leaves crunch beneath his paws. When he was sure it wasn't going to kill him, he sprinted. Wind whirled in his ears and he trilled with excitement as it passed through his whiskers.

For once, just once, it could've been real.

"Stop!" A young, scratchy voice called. "You'll scare away all the prey!"

Rusty turned to the voice. A familiar gray tabby gazed at him with yellow eyes and an amused expression. The orange tom smiled at his friend, but felt a tinge of disappointment ripple through his body.

"Hey, Gray," Rusty said. "What are you doing out?"

"Just hunting. What about you? Anything interesting?" He asked.

"Not really. I was just exploring. I don't get to come here often."

Or at all. Was this place ever real?

"Would you like to hunt with me, then? I could use the extra help." Gray lowered his ears in embarrassment. "I'm not the best tracker."

"Why not? I don't have anything else to do." Rusty said, twisting his tail in a dismissive gesture.

Gray nodded. With a wry flick of his ear, he added, "We should go somewhere else, then. We've probably scared all the prey away from here."

There was more?

"Yeah," Rusty said, trying to disguise his eagerness. If there was more, he had to see it! What would it be? That forest went on forever, but he'd barely been to any of it.

Where would Gray take him?

—

"Rusty?"

A small white paw jabbed him awake. He growled in frustration, and the paw flinched.

"R-Rusty?"

Rusty rolled over, the rags he slept on the complete opposite of the forest floor from his dream. He sighed irritatedly. "What, Smudge?"

"Augustus is here," His brother said quietly.

Rusty froze. Augustus? He wasn't supposed to come here! She said it was safe!

Princess sold them out, didn't she?

"What are we going to do?" Smudge asked, his voice cracking. "He's going to kill us!"

Rusty put his paws on Smudge's to cease their shaking. He stared his brother in the eyes with cold determination. "We run. He's big and strong, but he's slow. We're fast. If we leave now, he won't catch us."

Smudge nodded jerkily. "O-ok. Where?"

A low yowl sounded from somewhere in the room. Rusty stared out from behind the dresser. A large, white tom with ragged, spiky fur lifted his muzzle to taste the air. Then, he turned and locked dark blue eyes with Rusty. The orange tom ducked behind the dresser.

"When I yowl, just run. Get out of Augustus's territory. I'll find you." Rusty said.

"You won't be able to find me if you don't know where I am!" Smudge cried.

Rusty sighed, his dreams flashing behind his eyes. "The forest. Go to the forest. Get the forest cats."

"But they'll eat me!" Smudge said.

Rusty looked out again. "Not if you tell them about Augustus. He has more meat on his bones than you do."

He turned back to his brother, who stared at him with wide eyes. Then, he unsheathed his claws and leaped out from behind the dresser with an echoing yowl. Augustus turned to the noise and ran at Rusty with a screech. The orange tom met him halfway, claws scraping on the wood floor.

Augustus shoved him to the ground with little effort, crushing his windpipe. The tom spoke with no grace, spitting in Rusty's face. "I told you to leave."

Rusty winced at the saliva on his whiskers. The tom may have been huge and heartless, but he certainly didn't have any tact. He slashed the white brute across the face. Then, before Augustus could react, Rusty slipped underneath his belly and slid out from under him.

Though he knew it was foolish, Rusty couldn't resist the urge to make a jab.

"And I told you to chase your tail like the stupid dog you are," He jeered.

Augustus blinked through bloody eyes and hissed, then leaped at him. Rusty jumped backwards, the brute's teeth snapping at his whiskers, and bolted. His paws beat the ground like a drum as he tried his best to ignore the hum of cars on the road. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

Yet, beyond that, there were four great peaks jutting into the sky. As Rusty continued to run, he realized that no, they weren't mountains—they were trees. Could they lead to the forest?

He turned in their direction, breaths deep and heavy. His throat burned and his lungs stung, but the trees remained in the distance. Even as he jumped over fence after fence and car after car passed by, they remained far.

He had stopped to catch his breath when he saw it. There was a hole in the fence, just barely his size. Behind it were massive trees and countless dead leaves. His tail shook in excitement as he leaped to his paws and squeezed through it, eyes wide as a kitten's.

Rusty took a cautious step, the leaves crinkling beneath his paws. They felt just like in his dream, but when he lifted his paw, the leaves remained crushed. It was real!

"Smudge?" He called, gaze darting across the area. "Smudge?"

Suddenly, a twig fell to the ground from the tree beside him. A familiar orange-and-white tom followed it.

"Rusty!" Smudge said joyfully, nuzzling his brother. "You're alive! I thought you were going to die! I thought you were dead!"

Rusty buried his muzzle into Smudge's shoulder. "Well, I'm here now... and very alive."

His brother snorted at the comment, but the good mood was short-lived. Smudge lowered his ears and looked away nervously. "What are we going to do now? Are we really going to find the wild cats?"

Rusty stared at him incredulously. "Why wouldn't we? If they're as tough as the others say, we'll never have to worry about Augustus again."

—

"Yeah," Rusty said.

Graypaw purred at the orange tom before turning away to look at the forest. They were on the border of the territory now, but they could easily go to the Great Sycamore or Snakerocks. The Great Sycamore would probably be better. He shuddered at the thought of snakes.

He turned, mouth open to tell the orange rogue where they were going and fluffy tail twitching with excitement, but he was gone.

"Rusty?" Graypaw said. "Where'd you go?"

A white, eyeless tom emerged from the hole in the fence in front of twolegplace. He was massive, almost as big as a fox, and Graypaw took a step back. The strange cat snarled, his growl shaking the earth.

As Graypaw stood frozen in fear, two pelts brushed against his sides. Stars glittered in the corner of his vision, but he kept his eyes fixed on the white cat and it stared back, its growls failing to cease.

Then, one of the starry cats—StarClan warriors, Graypaw noted with a hint of relief—stepped between the gray tom and the eyeless cat. The eyeless cat turned back with a final hiss, and the StarClan warrior turned to face Graypaw with a yellow gaze.

The young tom froze, the word coming involuntarily. "D-dad?"

The starry tom's expression softened. His voice rang out, still as clear and strong as Graypaw remembered it. "I'm here to deliver you a message."

"Why me? I-I'm just an apprentice. Why not Spottedleaf? I'm not a medicine cat!" Graypaw said.

"Spottedleaf has already heard it, but you'll need to, too. You'll play an important role." His father said.

"What role?"

His father chuckled. "If I told you that, the other StarClan cats would have my head. They want you to make your own choice, son, and so do I. Just be careful about who you befriend and how you treat them."

Graypaw's paws began to tremble. Prophecies were for leaders and medicine cats, not young apprentices! He was barely out of the nursery!

"Now, listen closely." His father continued.

The sun began to rise behind them, washing the earth with red light.

"Two born with fur of fire,"

His father's eyes began to glow.

"One made of fear; the other of ire,"

Two silhouettes appeared behind him, though Graypaw couldn't see them clearly. One was tall and well-muscled, while the other was slightly shorter and thin.

"Shall save the clans or let them expire."

Graypaw's dream faded, and he found himself being prodded awake by Dustpaw for the dawn patrol.


	2. patrols and trolls

"Ugh, it's too early!" Graypaw complained, blinking his eyes at the blinding light of the rising sun.

Dustpaw looked behind herself and rolled her green eyes at the apprentice, which only bothered Graypaw more. Then, she turned back and continued walking on, and Graypaw did the same. Whatever bait he tried to lay out, the she-cat wouldn't take it. She was too into her duties, as if being so dedicated could make her a warrior early. On the other paw, Graypaw preferred to enjoy himself.

So, he'd enjoy himself no matter how early it was. He gazed at the trees. It was leaf-fall, so they had turned. Though, why did some leaves turn red and others turn yellow or brown?

Would he change colors someday, too? His parents didn't, but his older brother did. The long-tailed tom had been born pure gray, but by the time his warrior assessment came, he was dark golden, and getting paler by the moon.

It didn't help that his brother left his fur everywhere, and Graypaw suppressed a snort at the memory of Patchpelt asking Longtail—then Longpaw—to never care for him and the other the elders again because his fur was "invading their den worse than RiverClan at Sunningrocks." Longtail would probably lose all of his fur before he could set paw in the elders' den again.

Graypaw tripped on a twig and came back up with a mouthful of Dustpaw's tail. The pale brown apprentice glared at him but remained quiet. Graypaw blinked at her, silently asking for forgiveness. The she-cat scoffed at him and turned away before freezing. Ahead of them, Mousefur froze too.

Then, Graypaw heard it—a loud, panicked yowl from the border. He couldn't understand the words, but whoever was calling needed help quick. Graypaw exchanged glances with the rest of the patrol before taking off.

The yowl sounded again. Graypaw changed direction slightly. It was coming from the twolegplace border. He didn't recognize the voice—was it a kittypet?

His heart began to throb in his ears as he remembered the odd dreams he'd been having.

"Just be careful about who you befriend..."

"Who you befriend..."

"Who you befriend..."

How hadn't he realized immediately? It was so obvious—the prophecy cats weren't in ThunderClan! He hadn't met them. Whitestorm implied he had to befriend them.

He was almost to the border now. Another yowl sounded and he heard something skitter. A flash of orange fur moved just beyond the bushes. Graypaw darted behind them, peering out.

There were two kittypet toms, one taller and more muscular, and the other slightly shorter and leaner. The short one was white with orange tabby patches along his back, tail, and ears. His eyes were a bright, slightly golden yellow, which were the opposite of the larger tom's. His were a deep, dark green like moss, and his pelt was pure orange with darker ticking.

The green-eyed tom broke the nuzzle that he and the smaller cat were sharing. He stared back at the bicolor tom as if he'd asked if a mouse was a squirrel, and said quietly, "Why wouldn't we? If they're as tough as the others say, we'll never have to worry about Augustus again."

Graypaw's tailtip flicked in interest. Who was Augustus? Why did the toms fear him? And the 'they...' were the kittypets looking for the clans? Against better judgement, Graypaw stepped out from behind the bush.

"What are you doing here? This is ThunderClan territory." He said, playing the role of a cat that didn't just spend the last few heartbeats spying on them.

The green-eyed tom turned to his voice and blinked at him in shock. "Gray?"

Graypaw stepped back in surprise. How did he—wait.

Bright green eyes stared back at him. "Hey, Gray. What are you doing out?"

"Hunting. What about you? Anything interesting?"

Rusty blinked at him. "Just exploring. I don't get to come here often."

Or at all, Graypaw realized. Rusty wasn't a rogue, he was a kittypet.

"Rusty?" He said, testing the waters. The tom didn't protest the name, though Graypaw still couldn't believe it. "What are you doing here?"

The kittypet trilled. "I'm so glad to see you! We need your help."

"What happened?" Graypaw asked.

"There's a cat on our tail. He has a whole gang behind him, and if we stay in his territory, he's going to kill us." Rusty said. "So we had to leave, and the only place I could think of was here."

It was that moment when the rest of the patrol arrived.

"Rogues!" Mousefur hissed. "Why are they on our territory?"

Dustpaw wrinkled her muzzle. "They're not rogues, they're kittypets!"

The short tom next to Rusty recoiled, mortified. "Are... are those Clan cats?"

"Stay behind me," Rusty muttered to him. "I'll explain. Don't worry."

"You'd better!" Dustpaw growled, though it tapered off as Mousefur sent her a glare.

"We need your help," Rusty said, and then explained again. Mousefur regarded him coldly and flicked her tail with annoyance. As she opened her mouth to speak, Graypaw felt as if frost was creeping up his paws.

"We have no responsibility towards outsiders, and our own mouths to feed. I'm sorry, but we can't help you." She said.

A shiver went down his spine as the warrior turned away, and Dustpaw soon followed. He turned to Rusty and whispered frantically, "Tell them to take you to Bluestar."

"Take us to Bluestar!" Rusty yelled.

Mousefur whipped around and stalked back to him, tailtip flicking. "Bluestar?"

"That's what I said," Rusty's voice was firm and strong, as if he wasn't pleading for his life. "We want to speak with Bluestar."

Mousefur glared at Graypaw. He looked away awkwardly and gathered his breath.

"We should honor their request." He said.

Dustpaw opened her mouth to argue, but Mousefur cut her off. "Fine. We'll take you to see her."

—

The walk to see Bluestar was longer than Smudge expected. Along the way, there was no shortage of plant life that threatened to trip him. Already, he had stumbled twice. After the second time, the younger brown she-cat sent him an annoyed glare and he was determined not to trip again.

Animals chattered around them, and his fur raised at every scuttle and clatter. Smudge may have been used to the loudness of living among housefolk, but he wasn't used to the wildness of the forest. At any moment, something could attack him, and he wouldn't know how to defend himself. In fact, that something could be the feral cats leading them through the forest.

He shuddered. What if they were going to ambush him and Rusty?

As they progressed, it seemed more and more likely. The area smelled so strongly of strange cats that Smudge could no longer resist the urge to puff out his fur. His brother nudged him slightly and he jumped.

"W-what?" He stammered.

"You need to calm down. You look like you're about to leap out of your fur." Rusty said.

"But there's so many cats! Can't you smell them?" Smudge said.

The cat that Rusty called Gray turned to look at them.

"Don't worry," He said. "That's just my clanmates. They won't hurt you unless you hurt them."

Rusty dipped his head in complete trust of the stranger, but Smudge didn't buy it. He curled an ear. How come Rusty was so friendly with Gray? Why did they know each other's names? Had Rusty come here before... without him?

They reached an odd area filled with ferns, and the lilac she-cat slipped through them. The brown she-cat followed. Before entering, Gray turned to look at them again.

"This is our camp. Just follow us and you'll be fine." He said, then dove into the ferns.

Rusty ducked in with no fear, while Smudge hesitated for a moment before walking through. The ferns brushed against his face and stuck to his nose, and he let out a disgruntled hiss as he struggled to dislodge them. His brother trilled in amusement at the sight.

As they continued, Smudge had to blink twice. The clearing was full of cats, many of which had thin scars visible on their pelts or torn ears. He lowered his ears as some stared back at him.

"Rusty?" Smudge whispered.

"What?" His brother said.

"There's so many cats." He said, eyes wide.

Rusty's ear twitched. "You heard what Gray said. They're not going to hurt you."

"But they look so tough," Smudge said. "And they're wild cats. How can you trust Gray so much?"

Rusty hesitated before speaking. "I just know."

Smudge didn't press, but his brother was obviously hiding something. He'd have to ask later when this was all settled. For now, he had to focus on avoiding his seemingly imminent death.

He looked up just in time to see a tall rock obscuring his view. Eyes shined from the top of it, and Smudge was about to ask about the living rock when the older, pale brown she-cat spoke.

"Bluestar?"

The eyes moved upwards, revealing the form of a cat. Their tail flicked with curiosity as they padded into the light and their fur brightened to a pale gray. Still, aside from the stranger's blue eyes, Smudge had to squint to see them. Their pelt was only a slightly different shade from the rock.

"Who are these cats?" The not-a-rock-and-most-definitely-a-cat asked.

"Kittypets. We found them at the border and they asked to be taken here." Mousefur paused. "They say they need help."

Bluestar's gaze flitted to Rusty, then to Smudge. Her blue eyes suddenly held something unreadable within them, as if she were sending him seasons of suffering and days of trepidation in a single moment. Smudge's skin crawled and he dug his claws into the ground until she looked away. The feelings subsided, and he had no time to question them before the leader spoke.

"Why have you come?" She said, addressing them directly with no malice or scorn despite the fact that she no longer made eye contact with either of them.

"I'm Rusty, and the other cat is my brother, Smudge. We've been driven out of our home," Rusty said. "I heard about the wild cats here, and thought you could help us."

"We won't send any patrols to twolegplace if that's what you're asking." Bluestar said.

"Uh, no," Rusty stammered. "We want to join you."

Smudge stared at his brother, wide-eyed, but Rusty didn't spare him a glance.

"Clan life isn't suited for kittypets. Life in the forest will be difficult. You will have to hunt for your food, and for your clanmates. There will be battles. You will have to fight for your life."

But they'd had to fight for their life just that day. Had Rusty led them into a another twolegplace? Could it be even worse?

"I understand." Rusty said.

Bluestar looked to Smudge. "Do you?"

"He does," Rusty said.

"I want to hear him say it himself." Bluestar insisted.

"I-I understand." He said.

"Then, come here. You'll need new names." After ensuring that the two brothers stepped forward, she turned towards the rest of the camp. They were already watching, but she me the announcement anyway. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the highrock!"

The few cats farthest from the rock moved forward, but most merely settled into a more comfortable position.

Bluestar continued, "I am welcoming two new clanmates into our ranks. Though they may be outsiders, I'm sure they will become fine warriors with the proper training."

There were whispers among the gathered cats, but Smudge couldn't hear them well. A few cats exchanged conflicted glances, but no one spoke up.

Bluestar turned to Rusty. "You have a pelt that's red like flames. Until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Firepaw."

She looked to the crowd, and Smudge swiveled to follow her gaze. It landed on a large, dark brown tabby tom with a scarred muzzle. The tom's eyes locked with Smudge's for a moment, and another set of emotions flowed through him, still foreign and unsettling; dark fear, deep longing, and burning fury.

"Tigerclaw," Bluestar said. "You are a noble warrior, and I trust that you will pass your strength and skill into this apprentice."

The tabby tom approached the newly-dubbed Firepaw and touched his nose to the other's forehead. The motion was gentle and restrained, a strong contrast to the set of emotions Smudge had felt when they locked eyes.

Then, Bluestar turned to Smudge (this time, thankfully, with no eye contact). "Your pelt is bright like embers after a fire. Until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Emberpaw."

It would be strange to hear his new name called, but he would get used to it.

Emberpaw searched the crowd as Bluestar did, following her eyes until they landed on a dark gray tabby tom. His yellow eyes flashed dangerously as they bore into Emberpaw. They were a hateful trepidation that made a chill travel down his spine mixed with a dauntless pride.

"Darkstripe," Bluestar said. The dark warrior made his way to Emberpaw before she could continue, not breaking the stare he and the newly named apprentice shared. The leader finished her speech, "You are an ambitious warrior, and you were a good mentor to Longtail. I hope you may pass on your confidence and loyalty to this apprentice."

Darkstripe touched his nose to Emberpaw's head, finally breaking eye contact. Emberpaw winced at the coldness of his new mentor's nose.


	3. firepaw is edgy

His eyes may have been amber, but Firepaw could still see the ice in them. The tom was massive and dark, but there was no mistaking the similarity. He was not to be trusted if he was anything like Augustus.

When the gathering dispersed, the two didn't speak for a long moment. By the time one of them broke, Darkstripe and Emberpaw were already gone.

"I trust you'll learn quickly enough not to need a tour of the territory," His mentor said. "And I know Graypaw will give you a tour of the camp the first moment he gets. So, I want to see your skills. Would you rather hunt or spar first?"

While Augustus spoke with no charm, this tom was eloquent with little effort. However, he also seemed to think aloud. Firepaw reminded himself to ask Graypaw about him later.

While hunting would be easiest, sparring would tell him how much of a threat this tom could be—or alternatively, what he could learn from him.

"Let's start with sparring." Firepaw said, keeping his voice cold.

His mentor dipped his head. "We'll head to the sandy hollow, then. It isn't far."

The two started on their way, and Firepaw made as many notes about his new mentor as he could.

The tom refused to meet his eyes after the ceremony. He'd catch him looking over occasionally, but if Firepaw gazed back, his gaze would shift to something just away from his eyes.

The tom was gigantic, with large, hooked claws, but he walked like prey. His paws were silent.

Firepaw almost decided he wouldn't be a threat until the spar began.

"This is it," The brown tabby said.

The earth below was reddish and as they descended the gentle slope, it became loose. Sand gathered between Firepaw's pads and he resisted the urge to shake it out. It was empty, save for the newly appointed mentor and apprentice. They stopped in the center.

"Remember, we're fighting with claws sheathed," The tabby said. "We don't want any injuries."

Firepaw wasn't sure if he needed a reminder. Part of him was indignant, but another wanted to feel the tom's flesh beneath his claws. He shoved the idea away, reminding himself that this was not Augustus and he wasn't in danger. This was just a spar, not a fight for his life.

"Ready?" His mentor asked.

Firepaw nodded.

The two circled each other, and Firepaw caught the tom's eyes again. Yet again, the tom looked away. His amber gaze focused on Firepaw's paws. The apprentice flicked his tail. The tom knew where to look. He'd just have to surprise him, then.

Firepaw sprung forward. He knew he couldn't knock the tom down, but he could still grab his tail. He gripped the tom's fluffy tail in his jaws, holding it tight enough not to lose it but not so much that it would've hurt.

The tom whirled to face him and slammed a massive paw onto his face, sending him to the ground. Then, he pinned him with a single forepaw. Firepaw struggled, getting more sand stuck between his claws, but couldn't break free.

With just one paw, this cat was stronger than the most heartless tom in twolegplace.

—

It was midday when it happened. Firepaw returned from his spar with his mentor, his new... clanmates... not even bothering to look up when he entered. Soon, his brother and the dark tabby tom entered from the opposite side of camp. The dark tom—Darkstripe, Firepaw tried to remember his name—was carrying a bird.

Firepaw rushed to greet them. "Emberpaw!"

His brother flinched before he recognized the voice. Then, his eyes lit up.

"Firepaw!" He said. "What did you do with Tigerclaw?"

"Just sparred," Firepaw said. "What did you do?"

His brother looked away sheepishly. "We hunted, but I wasn't very good. I... um... I didn't catch anything."

"But you're an amazing hunter!" Firepaw balked. "There's no way you—"

"I just didn't. Maybe it's because the forest is so new," Emberpaw said.

Firepaw could practically smell the lie. He glanced at the dark gray tabby.

"He took it, didn't he?"

His brother stammered incoherently, and that was all he needed to know the truth. He padded over to the tom, who was now laying the prey down.

"You!" Firepaw growled.

The tom turned to him. "What do you need?"

"That was Emberpaw's catch, wasn't it?" Firepaw said.

The pale golden tom beside the dark gray tabby stared at him in confusion.

"That kittypet couldn't catch a bird if it landed on him." The tom said, his gaze drifting to the pale golden tabby. "Of course it's not."

"My brother could catch a mouse through a wall. There's no way he wouldn't have caught something." Firepaw insisted. "So, you must have taken his catch."

"I think you're overestimating your brother's abilities, kittypet." The tom said.

"I know it's his catch. Emberpaw may be a great hunter, but he's a terrible liar—and so are you."

The tom cracked, letting out a mrrow of amusement. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to fight you." Firepaw said.

The tom blinked at him and mrrowed again. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

This was the kind of cat Firepaw couldn't stand.

"Completely. If I win, I get to tell everyone how you treated my brother. If I lose..."

"You'll get in trouble either way." The golden tom warned, surprising the two.

"Stay out of this, Longtail. We all know that if you were in the patrol that picked those two up, they wouldn't be here right now." Darkstripe said.

The golden tom, Longtail, bristled. "That's not true!"

Darkstripe ignored him. "If you lose, you'll take your pathetic brother and leave."

"That works," Firepaw said. "The only problem is that you'd have to win."

Darkstripe growled. "As if I'd lose to a twoleg's toy."

It was Firepaw's turn to mrrow. He hadn't lived with a twoleg since Augustus started hunting him and his brother down.

The dark tabby ignored the noise.

"So, the sandy hollow at sunset?" He said.

"If you're not too cowardly to show," Firepaw replied.

—

Darkstripe was, in fact, not too cowardly to show. When Firepaw entered the hollow, he realized that the tom had brought an audience.

So he was vain, too. At least Firepaw could humiliate him in front of his closest clanmates.

There was the pale golden tabby from earlier, Longtail, as well as the pale brown apprentice from the patrol that found him and his brother. Longtail watched with cautious interest, his tail twitching with nerves and his eyes scanning the forest. The pale brown apprentice was the opposite—she sat calm and comfortable, her contemptuous gaze directed only at Firepaw.

He ignored the urge to call her out on the stare and settled for an irritated glare. She lashed her tail in response. Firepaw mrrowled dismissively and corrected his stance as he reached the middle of the hollow.

"Are you ready, kittypet?" Darkstripe said, padding into view.

Firepaw flicked his ear. "Just get on with it."

The dark gray tabby tom leaped at Firepaw, who sidestepped it immediately, and cuffed him over the head before springing back. He shifted his paws into a wide stance as his enemy rose.

Darkstripe howled in anger and reared up like a twoleg, slamming his paws behind Firepaw's ears. Earth met chin as Firepaw yelped in surprise and his teeth clicked painfully.

Firepaw reached up, claws striking the dark warrior's muzzle. While the tom was distracted, he rolled and bit the other's leg. Darkstripe grunted in pain, lifting the leg reflexively. Firepaw took the opportunity and rammed himself into the side of the warrior's chest, sending him to the ground.

Firepaw could only hold the brute down for a moment before he broke free, throwing the tall apprentice like a piece of old moss. Firepaw's chest refused to cooperate as he heaved in short, useless breaths. Giant paws shoved down on his neck, forcing him to feel his own pulse. It thrummed from both the front of his neck and the back of his ears, faster than cricket chirps and more deafening than thunder.

"Stop!" A voice called, distant yet close and earsplittingly loud yet much quieter than the pulse.

The weight on his neck released, paws landing in the corner of his vision. For a moment, he swore they were white.

Darkstripe spoke, but all of it was a low rumble. The paws left, and new ones replaced them. These ones were orange-and-black with pale tabby stripes.

"Are you alright?" The voice asked, only slightly clearer than before. After a moment of silence, it said, "Can you hear me?"

Firepaw nodded.

"Dustpaw, what happened?" The voice asked.

Another voice—this one was the pale brown cat's from earlier, Dustpaw's—replied, "Darkstripe threw him. And then he..."

"He what?"

"He didn't get up. I think Darkstripe tried to choke him."

Firepaw pushes himself to his paws. The owner of the voice, a long-furred torbie, turned to him. Darkstripe was on the other side of the hollow now. The pale apprentice, Dustpaw, on the other paw, was only a few tail-lengths away. Longtail was missing.

"Who are you?" Firepaw asked.

"I'm Spottedleaf," The torbie said. "The Clan's medicine cat. Clanmates aren't supposed to fight each other, you know."

"Hardly a clanmate," Firepaw snarked.

Spottedleaf ignored the comment. "Is your chest alright? Any trouble breathing or pain?"

"I'm fine," Firepaw said.

"That's not an answer," Spottedleaf said.

Firepaw flicked his tail. "Well, that's all you're getting from me."

As he exited the clearing, he tried his best to ignore Spottedleaf's final comment.

"Dustpaw, make sure he stops by my den for some chamomile."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I don't have it finished yet but there's no new content for readers that got to this before it was deleted, here's a preview for the next chapter:
> 
> Firepaw did not stop by Spottedleaf's den for chamomile. Nor did he the next day, or the day after that. Instead, he went on hunting patrols and tried to ignore the creeping urgency that settled on his spine. Darkstripe was a coward, but Firepaw still wasn't sure whether or not the tom would keep his word.
> 
> "Firepaw!" His mentor's voice called.
> 
> The apprentice turned to the noise and curled his ear.
> 
> "We're needed on a border patrol," His mentor explained.
> 
> Another patrol. Was that all Clan cats did? Firepaw silenced his thoughts in an attempt to hide his contempt for the task.
> 
> He followed his mentor to the camp entrance, where the other members of the patrol were waiting. His brother stood beside Longtail, Darkstripe glaring at the two. Emberpaw looked up as Firepaw approached.
> 
> "Firepaw!" He called. "We're finally on patrol together!"


End file.
